A King May Look at a Cat
by Alley Cat Sunflower
Summary: A cat may look at a king; this much everyone knows. But what about the other way around? When Gaius is the king, and Milla the cat, things get a little more complicated. Add a few merciless punsters into the mix, and poor Erston might not survive the evening with his dignity, heart, *or* mind in one piece. Takes place late-ish during ToX2. I do not own Xillia or the cover art!


_Those who will play with cats must expect to be scratched.  
>(<em>_**Cervantes**__)_

It's an indisputable fact that Gaius likes knowing what to expect. He appreciates understanding where he stands with people, and what role he fills for them. And, when faced with unfamiliar situations, he prefers either not to think about them (if less urgent) or to deal with them quickly and efficiently in an effort to return to normalcy as soon as possible.

What Gaius does _not_ appreciate are surprises. Particularly when they play on one or more of his well-concealed weaknesses, and/or when they are intended to make him look the fool. Especially when they succeed in doing so.

…Specifically when they involve the Lord of Spirits with cat ears and a tail.

It only happened once, but once was more than enough, or so he's told himself ever since. _That_ was one of the hardest battles he had ever fought. It was the evening of a festival day in Kanbalar, a belated celebration marking the signing of the international peace treaty.

At length, Gaius had agreed to attend the carnival with them, thinking there could be little harm in a single night of merrymaking—so long as they got back to saving the world immediately afterwards. After all, he could trust Milla and her comrades not to get too sidetracked, right?

Wrong. Gaius hadn't anticipated that spending a mere nine hours with Rowen in his palace, catching up on the state of his country and straightening up a few lingering legislative issues, would offer the others enough time to so thoroughly plot the loss of his dignity.

Of course, that realization only came in retrospect; in the moment, words seemed to have fled his mind. As the group approached, he had only time to wonder why Rowen looked so scandalized and why Jude looked so apologetic before his eyes landed on Milla—and suddenly, everything made a disturbing kind of sense.

She was the only one of them who had changed her outfit in any noticeable way; she wore a pure white dress in a traditional Auj Oule style—sleeveless, high-collared, form-fitting… but very short. (Though, Gaius had to admit it was hardly shorter than her usual choice of clothing.) Fortunately, miniature prayer pennants of various lengths formed a slightly longer skirt, fading between blue and yellow and red and green.

But it was not her altered attire which froze Gaius in place; it was her tawny feline ears and tail—tipped in green, like her unruly lock of hair—and her slightly elongated pupils and cuspids. She was… a cat. And also a woman. In other words, she had somehow become the most desirable combination of creatures imaginable.

It took him quite a bit longer than usual to process this turn of events. This did not go unnoticed.

"Cat got your tongue?" quipped Alvin, smirking, and Gaius realized with a jolt that not only was he was staring, but his mouth was slightly open. He snapped his jaws shut and shot the former mercenary a glare that, fortunately for him, had the desired effect: he shut his mouth immediately, but looked no less smug.

"_No_," responded Gaius forcefully, glowering around at the others and daring them to say anything further. Evidently sensible enough to gauge his mood, they didn't, though there were some speculative whispers between Elle and Ludger.

Milla's ear twitched delicately in their direction; Gaius's breath caught momentarily at the grace in the simple, instinctive motion. (Rowen glanced at him sideways, clear curiosity in his steel-gray gaze as he readjusted his glasses, but his prime minister wisely said nothing.)

Perhaps, decided Gaius, closing his eyes briefly—perhaps, if he simply ignored the situation, he might manage to get through the evening with his pride intact. After all, to focus too much on the many perfections of feline or female would be detrimental to dignity and sanity alike. He would simply refuse to look at her, and the festival would offer many distractions.

Taking uncertain confidence from his newfound plan of action, looking in any direction but Milla's, Gaius swept through the group and led the way down into the bustling streets of Kanbalar.

As they walked through the crowded roads, breaking into conversation and laughter as they went, Gaius cast his gaze around the group through narrowed eyes in an attempt to determine who was the mastermind behind Milla's transformation so that he could later interrogate them as to the reasons why.

Gaius carefully directed his eyes in her direction. She seemed more uncomfortable than anything else; her tail was hanging low, her ears drooping. No—the blame clearly lay elsewhere: someone had certainly put her up to this for some perverse reason. And no, he was _not _glad they had!

He quickly eliminated Jude as a suspect; he seemed distinctly detached from the situation. And, while Ludger and Elle didn't seem especially perturbed by Milla's switch in species, they also didn't seem particularly guilty. Rollo, meanwhile, was simply very confused, if his yowls and bristles were anything to go by.

The most likely candidate was probably Muzét. She hadn't taken her eyes off Gaius and his reactions since he had first encountered Milla, and made little effort to hide her knowing smile…

…But then, Alvin threw an arm around Leia's shoulders, smiling lopsidedly down at something she was jotting down in her notebook as she grinned. And even Elize, whom Gaius had (apparently mistakenly) regarded as sweet and docile, giggled behind her hand, casting glances back at him now and again before engaging herself once more in conspiratorial conversation with Teepo. None of them seemed innocent, either.

"Your Highness," murmured Rowen concernedly, though the way he spoke sounded almost as though he were concealing something like amusement. "Is something… troubling you?"

Gaius shook his head after a slight hesitation. "I'll be all right," he replied, and it was only after the words left his mouth that he realized that he had spoken in the future tense. Cursing himself for the slip-up, he pressed his lips together firmly and flatly refused to part them for any reason for as long as possible.

Somewhere between the palace gates and the business district, the group lost Ludger and Elle, and Rollo with them—but it was generally agreed among those remaining that so long as they had one another, there was nothing for the rest of them to worry about.

Colorful lanterns hung above the heads of the crowd, shedding a warm glow of both light and heat; stalls containing carnival games were abundant, whether they involved throwing snowballs at targets or testing strength with a hammer and bell. Hopeful merchants had set up countless market stalls, selling everything from celebratory garb and jewelry to specially made prayer pennants to every imaginable kind of food… and yes, that unfortunately included Gaius dumplings.

The only problem was, it was rapidly becoming more and more difficult to see all the sights through the crowd, which had already swelled beyond the narrow streets and was spilling into alleyways. There were even a few brave festival-goers wandering around the snowy rooftops.

"Wow, there's not enough room to swing a cat around here," remarked Leia pointedly, a glimmer of amusement in her emerald eyes, and she and Alvin high-fived, each grinning broadly. Milla only heaved a sigh, raising a hand to her face and shaking her head; her tail swished agitatedly.

Gaius made a faint noise, looking sharply away from her: he felt her eyes on his face as suddenly as though she had slapped him with her gaze, but she said nothing, only continued to sway through the crowd, brushing past him as she went: he shivered, but not from the cold.

Her ears pricked with interest at a nearby food stall, a smile spreading across her face and accentuating sharp white teeth as she approached. As she examined the selection, her tail perked up in irrepressible excitement, almost taking her short tight skirt with it—

Rowen cleared his throat pointedly, and Gaius yanked his eyes up again, mortified… only to notice Alvin tracing his gaze before glancing over at him sideways, a suggestive smile playing on his lips. "Curiosity killed the cat, you know," he observed, crossing his arms; Leia laughed, still scribbling in her notepad.

"Stop it," growled Gaius through clenched teeth, grateful for the somewhat dim light to conceal the embarrassed flush he felt certain was spreading across his face by now: Rowen rested a conciliatory hand on his shoulder.

Leia's eyes widened, but Alvin only shrugged. "Getting _me_ to stop joking will be… like herding cats." Gaius took a step forward: Alvin stepped back, holding up his hands. "Fine, fine," he amended, shaking his head. "Would it kill ya to lighten up a little? You _decided _today was a festival day, remember." He paused, brown eyes gleaming with mischief. "Sourpuss."

"Why don't you have some of whatever Milla is having?" suggested Leia, leaning against Alvin to let someone else pass: he stepped away from her suddenly, and she gave a startled yelp, flailing—but he only chuckled and quickly caught her, propping her back up again. "I hear it's the cat's meow," she added breathlessly, and she and Alvin exchanged a wide smile.

Scowling, Gaius decided this nonsense was hardly worth his time and turned away from them in an attempt to find the others.

Jude and Milla still stood by the food stall, eating and drinking and being merry. Muzét walked on a string of lanterns high above as though it were a tightrope. Elize was saying something excitedly to Rowen, pointing off towards some carnival game, as Teepo swirled around her head in boisterous spirals; they departed swiftly.

"Doesn't Milla look a little like a sex kitten in that outfit?" wondered Alvin behind him, and Gaius grit his teeth at the relentless exchange of puns. "I mean, more than usual," he clarified. "I don't know, maybe it's the ears and tail, but it seems more… risqué than usual."

"Yeah, she'll probably get a lot of cat-calls tonight," shot back Leia, sounding a little bit resentful, though it was mostly masked by her usual good humor. "You know, looking like that, she kind of reminds me a little bit of…" She stopped short, as if clapping a hand over her mouth, and Gaius could imagine that she was sorry for what she had almost said.

_Presa_, he remembered—but she had never managed to capture quite the same spirit Milla had (and those weren't real ears or tails anyway), and so he had stayed out of her claws… at least for the most part.

"Hey now, don't be so catty," returned Alvin, sounding a little sad, but quickly picked up steam again. "I didn't mean to rub your fur the wrong way. And besides, this was partially _your_ idea, too." Now it was Gaius's turn to take notes, though he needed no notebook to keep this information filed away.

He walked forward several paces with the vague intention of finding a bar and drinking it to soothe his jangling nerves. If he wanted to give the others the slip, he had better do it now, and find something to drink before he lost his mind…

But it was too late. "Hey, Gaius," greeted Jude behind him, and he stiffened immediately, refusing to face her—well aware that Milla was probably with him, and certainly not wanting to end up staring again. "Thank goodness you're still here. We were just looking for you."

"Oh?" asked Gaius, at a loss for what else to say. Why would they be…?

"Yes," agreed Milla's voice, and he almost jumped, even though he had been expecting (anticipating?) her presence. "I was just wondering where I might find something good to drink, and you of all people would be able to show me."

Gaius swallowed, his mind and heart both racing a bit faster than was quite comfortable. After a hesitation, during he took a deep breath and steeled himself, he finally turned around: this did not make thinking any easier. "…Certainly," he responded uncertainly.

"Okay, then I'm going to look for Ludger and Elle," decided Jude after curiously analyzing Gaius's strained expression, raising his hand in a brief wave. "I'll catch up with you two later. Have fun!" He paused, looking her in the eye with a gentle warning. "And remember to pace yourself this time!"

"I will," responded Milla warmly, an odd and somewhat strangled sound edging the words as they exchanged an affectionate smile, and she cleared her throat uncomfortably as Jude weaved through the crowd: Gaius blinked, realizing that she was… purring. Milla Maxwell. The Lord of Spirits. _Purring_.

Her ears flattened, her tail lashing as she stood on one hip. "I already know I look ridiculous," she said dangerously, the purr becoming a growl. "There's no need to stare at me like that."

Gaius shook his head and opened his mouth, debating doing the gentlemanly thing and assuring her that she was by no means unattractive 'despite' her acquisition of certain catlike attributes—but decided at the last second that such a discussion could hardly end in his favor. Instead, he simply shut it again and led the way helplessly through the lane.

After a good deal of meandering, they finally arrived at Gaius's favorite establishment, the House of Spirits, settled comfortably next to the inn—its doors opened wide to welcome whatever the night might bring. Kanbalar's best bar and restaurant was not yet too crowded; the majority of the populace seemed to be wandering up and down the streets, taking advantage of the short time before the temperature dropped back below freezing.

"Thanks," sighed Milla, sidling inside with Gaius in half-reluctant pursuit, and turned to smile at him. (_Ah_, that smile; so beautifully sharp.) "First one's on me." And, though it was by no means the proper thing to do, Gaius did not protest. Instead, he simply focused on placing his order—Twilight for him and Moonlight for her—and thought of how he could possibly abscond without seeming rude.

"Stupid _tail_!" hissed Milla, ears folded back; her voice was much more breathy than usual during her exasperated exhalation. Gaius couldn't help but look over at her to find that she had seated herself very gingerly on the stool next to him. Even as he watched, Milla shifted back and forth agitatedly, rolling her hips in an extremely distracting manner in an effort to tug her tail out from beneath herself.

"I can't even sit properly when I'm like this," she muttered eventually, standing again, and placed her hands before her as if praying. Gaius was entranced by the motion of Milla's eyelids, closing gradually over her slit-pupilled eyes. (What long dark lashes she had…)

As she pressed her palms together, concentrating, she lifted her tail slowly; around it, the fabric of her gown shimmered brightly, parting like liquid, and reformed beneath it as it passed upwards—until finally, her tail emerged from a small hole in her garment instead of from under the skirt. The fabric gave a last sparkle and faded back to its ordinary white.

She opened her eyes again, giving a light sigh of relief, and swished her tail a few times experimentally, looking over her shoulder to see it twitching: Gaius's eyes followed the motion as though he himself were a cat, but his mind was not on her tail. It was not even on the regions that there adjacent lay.

No; it was wrestling with the fact that if Milla was capable of altering her dress just like that… then, just like Muzét's attire… her outfit was all just a manifestation of her spirit powers. She was not actually wearing anything. She had not been wearing anything the entire journey. Milla Maxwell was completely naked. Milla Maxwell also had cat ears and a tail. And she was sitting next to Gaius.

His brain short-circuited.

When he came to again, she was waving a willowy hand in front of his eyes, which were, thank the spirits, directed at the floor instead of her tail. "Gaius?" she asked, as though from a great distance, and he focused with difficulty on her concerned frown. Her ears had swiveled towards him, her vertical pupils dilated—the better to observe him. And she was very close.

_Too_ close.

Milla rested a gentle hand on Gaius's shoulder as if to steady him, and his heart almost stopped: he brushed her fingers away automatically, and his breath caught as his gloved fingertips grazed hers. No—no—no—(yes)—_no_. It would be better to endure her light touch than to counter it himself; that way, at least, it would not be his fault when he inevitably faltered.

"Are you all right?" asked Milla, her low voice sounding as though it came from a great distance. Gaius could smell the dizzying scent of Moonlight on her breath, hot and moist, sweet and mellow. Her proximity was quite as intoxicating as Twilight itself; he could hardly concentrate on her next words: "Do you need some fresh air?"

He managed a curt nod, getting to his feet and feeling distinctly shaky—even more so when Milla stood up as well, ostensibly to escort him out. "I'll be fine on my own," replied Gaius, his voice almost cracking under the strain of maintaining his composure, such as it had barely done even in his adolescence.

Without even waiting to see her reaction, he turned away from her and walked stiffly out the door, tugging off his gloves and coat and relishing the cold soothing his overheated skin. Leaning against the wall and taking a few deep breaths, he watched the fog dissipate gradually in the frigid air and attempted to plan his course of action.

This did not go well. Instead of strategizing, he simply ended up yearning for his abandoned shochu; he hadn't even drunk a drop, and at this point he really really _really_ needed a drink. (Or ten.) He supposed he could always go somewhere else, but it would be a waste of her well-earned gald for her to have bought him a drink, only for him to go missing…

Gaius closed his eyes defeatedly: on the other hand, he was at least 91% sure that if he went back in that bar, he would say or do something he'd regret. Just as he had made up his mind to find his prime minister and go elsewhere, however—

"What's the matter, Gaius?" asked Alvin's voice, and his eyes flew open to find him standing there with Leia at his side. "You look weak as a kitten."

"Compared to your usual self, anyway," added Leia hastily, as Gaius glowered, crossing his arms and staring the two of them down. "Wait, aren't you cold like that?" she added, looking him up and down in a way he might have considered insolent if it had been a stranger.

"I'm accustomed to it," growled Gaius, readjusting his grip on his gloves in an unintentional threat. "What do you want?"

"Whoa, put those claws away!" responded Alvin, holding up his hands in mock surrender, and Leia laughed. "I'm here for a drink; what did you expect?" he continued. "And this place is also a restaurant, so Leia's allowed inside too—even if she can't enjoy some of the finer things in life for another couple years."

Gaius sighed. "Then don't let me keep you," he said warningly, pointing inside with his thumb. "Milla's waiting at the bar." He hesitated, thinking; he wouldn't be coming back here tonight if he could possibly help it, and much as it pained him… "Alvin, you can have my drink," said Gaius half-reluctantly, "assuming Milla hasn't decided to take it in my absence."

Alvin raised his eyebrows in guardedly delighted surprise. "Thanks, Your Kingliness," he grinned, crossing his arms and shifting his weight with an altogether too knowing glance between him and the gate. "You taking off?"

He nodded curtly, praying that would be the end of the questions, but that was apparently too much to hope for. "Why?" asked Leia curiously. "You just got here, right?"

Her companion laughed, glancing over at him. "I'd guess it's a bit too hot in there for your king," he responded for Gaius, who narrowed his eyes. "So for once, he thinks making a break for it is better than standing and fighting. But," he added sagely, "there's more than one way to skin a cat."

"Come on, let's just get out of the _cold_ already," added Leia, her words so close behind his that she almost interrupted—shivering in the chill of either winter or Gaius's glare. Without further ado, she pushed Alvin inside (encountering only joking resistance).

Gaius, meanwhile, leaned against the wall briefly to compose himself before finally seizing the chance to escape and walking swiftly back into the crowded street.

At first, he was concerned only with putting as much physical distance as possible between himself and Milla, in an effort to keep his thoughts as far away from her as he himself was. Perhaps it would be safest to return to his palace and lock himself in his room for the night?

Unfortunately, just as he turned his feet towards the residential quarter, Muzét drifted down from on high to speak to him, causing a few civilians to jump to the side in alarm. Gaius only stared stonily up at her, crossing his arms and waiting for her to get out of his way—unable to help but glance over his shoulder now and again, half-expecting Milla to be stalking him like the cat she (sort of) was.

"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself," observed Muzét, tilting her head, though she remained smiling as serenely as usual. "Can I be of any assistance?" she continued: Gaius _almost_ said no, if only so that Milla's sister would leave him alone—but he quickly thought better of it, and instead crossed his arms.

"What, exactly, happened to Milla?" asked Gaius, looking her in the eye with considerably more difficulty than usual.

Muzét giggled, raising a dainty hand to her mouth. "Well," she began, with her usual and frankly obnoxious mock diffidence, "we all thought she would look adorable with a few feline features." She positively beamed down at him as she continued, "It took quite a bit of convincing, but eventually she agr—"

"Way to let the cat out of the bag, _Muzét_!" snapped Teepo, interrupting, as he twirled up to her in midair, and she looked at the animated doll with obvious dislike: Gaius, meanwhile, turned his gaze towards Elize. She wore new earrings, dangling from her ears like little sprays of stars, but a fierce scowl was on her face.

"I don't recall ever putting Milla in a bag," replied Muzét, frowning as if trying to remember. "Unless that's just another of your silly human expressions?"

Elize opened her mouth to retort, but then Rowen made his appearance, clutching his heart in a way Gaius knew all too well was an exaggerated reminder of his age. "Please, Miss Elize, slow down a bit next time," he panted, his breath billowing out in a weary cloud. "Now, what's all this about?" he added, straightening up and glancing between Gaius and Muzét with guarded curiosity.

"My sister," said Muzét, at the same time as Gaius said, "Nothing."

Rowen raised an eyebrow, awaiting an explanation; Gaius, perhaps foolishly, offered none—so Muzét took his silence as tacit permission to speak. "We were just talking about her modified appearance," she continued blithely, and Gaius narrowly resisted the urge to groan. "_I_ think it suits her very well."

"Me too," agreed Elize enthusiastically, and Teepo nodded fervently in agreement (though, come to think of it, how he could ever _dis_agree with her, Gaius wasn't sure). "She's so adorable!"

"Almost as adorable as me!" chimed in Teepo, spinning happily.

Rowen merely sighed heavily and shook his head slowly, making no effort to conceal his exasperation. "I think it's absolutely ridiculous," he asserted, and Gaius nodded hastily. Perhaps if he simply agreed with his prime minister's honest opinion, he would not have to lie overtly about his own.

"Aw," pouted Muzét, drifting a bit farther down as if dejected. "But we all worked so hard on designing the perfect outfit to show off her new features! Don't you agree it suits her well?"

A bit too well, thought Gaius, and that was the core problem—but fortunately, he didn't have to say anything. "I was referring more to the fact that you forced her into that form to begin with," returned Rowen sharply, looking her suspiciously in the eye. "The clothing is no more or less decent than Milla's usual attire."

Gaius suppressed an unwilling shiver with difficulty, reminded once more that _she_ _was naked_, and Muzét glanced over at him curiously but fortunately said nothing. Meanwhile, Elize shook her head, earrings swinging, and took a step towards the calm, cool, and collected Rowen, who merely looked down at her with slightly raised eyebrows. "How can you _not_ think Milla is cute?"

"Yeah!" agreed Teepo, drifting down to Rowen's eye level to glare at him.

"I believe our Lord of Spirits is always beautiful," explained the prime minster delicately, putting his hands behind his back in his usual gesture of contemplation. "Whether Milla be human in appearance or… feline, I will think no more or less of her."

"But, Rowen, this isn't about _beauty_," remarked Muzét, sounding surprised, and sat down in midair, crossing her legs.

"This is about _cuteness_!" finished Elize passionately, stamping her foot with clenched fists, and Rowen looked distinctly taken aback; Gaius quickly resolved to escape while they were occupied with their inane argument. "Come on, don't you think cats are cute?"

"Well, I suppose _kittens_ are cute," mused Rowen, stroking his beard thoughtfully. (Gaius's escape, meanwhile, was hindered as he suddenly recalled one of the happiest memories in his life: an armful of kittens, all soft warm fur and tiny mews and miniature paws and disproportionately loud purrs.) "As long as they're not too rambunctious. But our Milla is hardly—"

"See!" exclaimed Elize triumphantly, ignoring his faint and feeble protest. "Milla is cute!" And then, before Gaius could melt into the crowd, she turned on her ruler, pinning him in place with an expectant peridot gaze: "Don't _you_ think so, Your Highness?"

Gaius exchanged a desperate glance with Rowen before clearing his throat awkwardly and attempting to meet Elize's curious eyes. "My opinion on the matter," he replied as authoritatively as possible, "is irrelevant." He made sure to weight his words with a warning, which Elize fortunately heeded, dipping her head somewhat disappointedly… but Muzét did not.

"Well, you like cats, don't you?" she cajoled. "Why _wouldn't_ you like Milla's new form?" Gaius didn't like the way she said the words, but he wasn't sure exactly why until he suddenly realized something. O spirits alive, was this a _permanent_ modification? His eyes widened in newfound alarm; at this rate, he would never be able to look anyone in the eye ever again.

"Excuse me," was Gaius's only response, and a very distracted one at that; he bowed his head and pushed through the crowd without further ado, feeling three sets of nonplussed eyes on his back—at least two of the minds behind which could probably guess at his conundrum. He was unraveling much more quickly than anticipated: he needed to get to his palace, and fast…

"Hey, Erston," greeted Ludger's voice; Gaius, startled, turned his head so suddenly it cracked. He winced, rubbing the back of his neck as he stepped aside reluctantly to meet with more of his allies. A beaming Elle clung to Ludger's hand, a bit of hot fudge smeared on her cheek; Jude, meanwhile, held a cup of steaming hot tea in both hands to warm them.

The researcher eyed him curiously. "Where'd you leave Milla?" was, predictably, his first question.

It took Gaius far longer than usual to process his words, and even longer to formulate an adequate response. "In Alvin and Leia's capable hands," he sighed eventually, shifting uncomfortably in place and glancing swiftly around his allies. The sooner he got back to his castle, the better.

"Something wrong?" asked Ludger, standing on one hip and giving Elle's hand a squeeze; she looked up at him, and they exchanged a somewhat mischievous smile. "You're acting like a cat on a hot tin roof."

Gaius clenched his fists at the joke, trying to determine a suitable punishment for excessive wordplay. Taking one look at his expression, Elle tugged at Ludger's shirt: he crouched down obligingly, allowing her to clamber onto his back. Seeing her distress, Gaius forced himself to relax, if only for the child's sake, and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I am going to _outlaw _cat puns," he threatened quietly.

"No need to have kittens about it," returned Ludger: Gaius opened his mouth hotly to tell him that if he said one more word it would be his last, but his comradversary(?) only laughed and readjusted a wide-eyed Elle on his back. As they charged into the crowd, Gaius took a couple furious steps after them—but Jude held him back, resting a cautionary palm on his forearm.

"Seriously, are you okay?" he asked, withdrawing his hand and frowning up at him. "You've been acting kind of… well, _weird_." Jude paused, his gaze lingering inquisitively on his face, though he quickly averted his eyes again—evidently sensible of the impropriety of staring. "Does it have something to do with Milla…?"

Gaius tensed, trying to decide how to respond. The truth would destroy him, but he was _not _a good liar, even through silence. Jude, however, evidently required nothing more than that hesitation in order to nod. "I see," he said, smiling faintly and folding one arm across his chest to hold the other.

Uttering a sound between a sigh and a groan, Gaius raised a hand to his face and rubbed his forehead briefly in an attempt to persuade his brain to function once more. Alas, the motion only made him wonder whether Milla would enjoy being massaged behind the ears—but at least Jude wasn't making any puns about it.

"I need a drink," decided Gaius aloud, dropping his hand again; at this point, the need for compromised sobriety far outweighed the need for solitude.

"Then why did you leave?" demanded Milla's voice behind him, and Gaius whirled around, almost backing into Jude: his hand flew automatically to his right shoulder, grasping for the hilt of his absent nodachi. At his sudden motion, Milla laid back her ears, fluffing up her tail in alarm, and raised her lip in the beginnings of a snarl: Gaius's eyes snagged on her dilated pupils and he found himself powerless to look away.

"Hey, come on, guys," remarked Jude, his eyes wide, and stepped between them with his arms spread out as if to hold them back from one another: as Milla gave no sign of relaxing, Gaius remembered with a jolt that eye contact was a threat to a cat, and dropped his gaze. "Everyone is just a little bit on edge, that's all."

"I can see that," glowered Milla, crossing her arms over her magnificent chest, and her tail lashed; her ears were still folded. "Anyway, Gaius, Alvin said he wants a word with you."

Gaius grit his teeth. If it wasn't one thing with this group, it was another. "And you deliver messages for him now?" he asked, crossing his arms and standing steady, trying to focus on the firmness of the ground beneath his feet. Which was the same ground upon which Milla stood, and her legs were slightly apart too, so the ground had a clear view of… oh spirits.

"I said I'd do it because I wanted to know where you went," shot back Milla, taking a confrontational step forward; the tips of Jude's fingers came to rest warningly on her upper chest, which unfortunately drew Gaius's eyes in that general direction, and there they remained. (At least he had some sort of an excuse, right?) "Since you ran away."

"I didn't _run away_," retorted Gaius, narrowing his eyes and lifting them to hers with an effort that shouldn't have been quite so difficult—but, in his defense, the view he was abandoning was spectacular, and the words he spoke were a lie. "I simply went for a walk on my own."

"I don't believe you," asserted Milla, settling back again; Jude's hand fell to his side. "You've been acting strange all night," she added accusatorily, scrutinizing his expression. "Care to explain?"

"I have no obligation to—" began Gaius furiously, and Milla bristled…

…But they were interrupted by Jude, who grasped each of their arms and proceeding to pull them both down the street with surprising strength. For awhile, Gaius occupied his mind with wondering how exactly he was navigating, before he realized that Milla was pointing him in the right direction with her tail.

Eventually, Jude let go of them both; but Milla rightly didn't trust Gaius to follow them, so she curled her slender supple fingers around his wrist. At her commanding touch, both light and firm, he stumbled as his feet forgot all meaning of balance; Jude and Milla exchanged a quizzical glance, each working to steady him, but said nothing.

And so it happened that the King of Rieze Maxia was hauled through the bar door by the Lord of Spirits.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" called Alvin's voice from a booth, and the jibe sent a jolt of anger surging through Gaius like electricity: he yanked his arm away from Milla's hold and stepped forward, clenching his bare fist with the vague intention of punching him.

(Of course it wouldn't be _wise_ to strike an ally; but in this case it would certainly be satisfying, and that ought to count for something.)

Jude shook his head warningly and led the way to the booth—and Milla reached for Gaius's wrist again, so he jerked it away from her—but she caught his hand instead, and led him forward anyway—and his mind went blissfully, alarmingly blank for a breathless second—and as they all crammed into the fairly small booth, Gaius found himself trying desperately to maintain his trademark 'poker face'… while also attempting to remember how to breathe.

This process was made exponentially more difficult as he found himself sitting next to her. For one thing, her long fluffy tail—curved delicately around her perfect hips—twitched in the tiny space between their thighs, stirring against his leg with maddening motion. How soft it must feel; if he could only touch it!

No, no—! Inhale, exhale… Inhale, exhale… Inhale, exhale…

…When Milla breathed like that, Gaius could hear her purring…

Her ear flicked towards him in his peripheral vision, distracting him. As he pulled himself out of his turbulent thoughts, he realized that his breath must have caught audibly, or—he shuddered to imagine—perhaps some other, even more embarrassing sound had escaped.

"Hoo boy," laughed Alvin, leaning back in his seat, and Gaius focused on him with an effort. "I wanted to talk to Gaius, and you brought me an empty shell. Who's going to be king now—Rowen?"

"No, look, he's back," smiled Leia, nodding once in Gaius's direction. "How are you feeling, Your Highness?"

Gaius cleared his throat slightly, glancing sideways at Milla, and a lie appeared in his head as suddenly as though someone shoved it at him. "I'm… allergic to cats," he managed unconvincingly.

"Yeah?" asked Alvin, raising an eyebrow with a disbelieving chuckle and a sparkle in his eye which Gaius didn't like one bit. "That's funny; I'm allergic to bull—" Jude coughed pointedly over the last syllable; Alvin drained the last of his glass. "Anyway, _I_ think you're just a scaredy-cat."

Oh, that was _it_. Not only because of the implication of cowardice; no matter how much Gaius loved creatures of the feline persuasion, he couldn't abide such merciless teasing—such constant reminders of Milla's alluringly altered shape.

"If I hear _one _more cat pun—" began Gaius, getting to his feet; his coat and gloves fell from his lap to the ground, but he paid them no mind. He was too busy thinking of how to finish the sentence.

"Not your smartest move, Alvin," hissed Leia, wide-eyed, and rested a warning hand briefly on his forearm; Jude simply shook his head at them both, looking somewhat troubled. "I'd quit while you're behind if I were you."

"All right, all right," sighed Alvin, shaking his head and refilling his glass from the bottle of Twilight on the table. "I guess you have a point." He pushed the glass across to Gaius as something of a peace offering, spilling only a couple drops on its way over. (An excellent start, though of course not nearly enough.)

Believing the matter largely resolved, Gaius seated himself again—but he barely had time to register that there was something in his way before Milla hissed loudly next to him, and he shot up again, recognizing with humiliated alarm that the thing he had sat upon was in fact her tail.

Milla clutched the viridescent tip in both hands; the rest of it twitched uncontrollably back and forth in lingering irritation. "Watch where you're sitting!" she spat, glowering up at him with ears flat back once again; Jude massaged her shoulder gently, and she arched both into and away from his touch just like any cat.

"…I apologize," responded Gaius eventually through clenched teeth, sitting down more gingerly this time and wishing very much that he could instead say the words on his mind; _watch where you put your tail_! But he settled for sipping sullenly at his shochu instead.

There was an incredibly strained silence, during which Milla nursed her Moonlight quietly, casting furtive glances in Gaius's direction. The king, meanwhile, tried to drink instead of think, which predictably didn't work out too well—because all he ended up doing was pondering how Milla's lips tasted.

"So… you said you wanted to talk to Gaius?" asked Jude of Alvin, awkwardly.

"Right," replied Alvin easily, signaling the waiter for another glass for himself and quickly filling it up. "But it doesn't seem that Gaius wants to talk to _me_—so I'll wait until he's a little less uptight before we start addressing sensitive subjects."

Gaius glared across at him, gripping his glass in both hands. "_What_ subjects?"

Alvin and Leia exchanged a glance; the reporter, surprisingly enough, was the first to speak. "Your behavior, mostly," she clarified, but her voice was tremulous, as if she was on the verge of a smile—as if she _knew something_. "Are you doing okay? Because we're all getting kind of worried about you…"

"What is this, an intervention?" asked Jude, raising his eyebrows as Alvin gave Leia a nudge, looking almost proud of her. Learning to lie, Gaius guessed, and glowered at them both.

"Am I the only one who has no idea what is going on?" interrupted Milla, her tail lashing in annoyance: its tip ended up in Gaius's lap, dangerously close to his waistband. He jumped; Milla's tail started brushing restlessly against his inner thigh. And Milla's tail was closely connected to her lower half. Her lower half was, technically speaking, bare. And furthermore, her tail was still twitching: two layers meant little with his senses so sharpened. Every soft movement was a hellish kind of heaven—

Spirits, he thought frantically, shifting in place uncomfortably; he had to find a way to get _out_ of here.

"Aaaand he's gone again," remarked Alvin, sitting back with a smile, a sigh, and a shake of his head. "This could take awhile…"

"What do you _want_?" asked Gaius, much more faintly than he would have liked, and cleared his throat once more in an effort to strengthen his voice. But his words only served to agitate Milla and her tail even more, and he stared down at it distractedly, wondering if he ought to take it and move it himself—

"An explanation," responded Milla tartly, clearly not in complete control of the movements of her extra appendage, or else she would never be doing _this_ to him. Gaius couldn't tell whether his thoughts were moving too quickly or slowly, but either way, it was impossible to catch any words.

Jude let out a long sigh. "Milla, I think it has something to do with—"

"No, I want to hear it from Gaius," insisted Milla, and her scornful gaze seared his face as she drank down her last drop of Moonlight. But he could barely meet them, because her tail would not be still, and he couldn't just move it himself, and—

"_Will you keep your tail to yourself_!" he hissed eventually, closing his eyes. But Milla didn't oblige even after several seconds, to his frustrated confusion; he opened one eye to find that she had raised her hand to her chin thoughtfully and was staring somewhere above Alvin and Leia's heads.

"My tail," she mused, and glanced over at Gaius again with no small degree of amusement. "So, it's my new appearance that's causing all these… _shenanigans_, as you humans say." She giggled somewhat hoarsely. "Hmm, I quite like that word. Shenanigans."

"Well, obviously," chimed in Alvin, putting an arm each around Jude and Leia, much to their resigned annoyance. "Why would it be anything else? The only things different about you tonight are your…" He paused, then grinned. "_Cat_tributes."

At this point, Gaius no longer knew how to express his incredible distress and frustration. Milla's tail still danced in his lap; Alvin kept making those awful puns; Jude and Leia weren't stopping either of them; and Gaius wasn't even fully aware what was wrong with him, let alone how to address Milla's question.

So he did the logical thing, and took five deep breaths—and then pulled her tail, hard.

She yowled, attempting to tug it from his grasp, but Gaius held fast, though his grip almost weakened. It was just as soft as it looked… if not more so. For a few seconds, he had the strangest urge to rub it against his cheek, but decided that would probably be considered indecent (she was naked, after all—no, wait, he was supposed to forget that!) and finally let go.

"What's _wrong_ with you?!" she snarled, jumping to her feet, and Gaius followed suit.

"What's wrong with _me_?" returned Gaius, stung. "You're the one who's suddenly a cat," he growled. "And frankly, it's hard enough dealing with you when you just look like a normal human." Which was absolutely true, come to think of it, though under normal circumstances he never would have realized it.

"What do you mean, _dealing _with me?" shouted Milla, determined to be offended. "You're the one who's hard to deal with! I'm not the one who almost destroyed an entire world a year ago!"

"Ludger has eliminated many more realities than I've ever _tried _to end," snapped Gaius, backing up out into the open as Milla stepped forward. "And he's still doing it, too. But I don't see you confronting him about _his_ destructive tendencies!"

"Come on, cut the catfight, you guys!" chortled Alvin in the background, but even as Milla and Gaius turned their heads towards him angrily, Leia clapped a hand over his mouth and whispered something urgently.

"…You're insufferable," accused Milla, turning her attention back to Gaius and swaying slightly in place with clenched fists. Glaring up into his eyes with a clear challenge, she took one more resolute step forward.

"You're drunk," shot back Gaius, crossing his arms and standing his ground with difficulty.

"You both need to stop," interrupted Jude, standing up and leaning both hands on the table. "Gaius, it's not her fault," he asserted, looking him in the eye with brief intensity. "And Milla… why don't you just go back to being a regular human?" he suggested, a little more gently.

There was a hesitation, during which Gaius silently willed her to take Jude's advice—but then, quite seriously, she shook her head. "No," she decided. "I'm staying just like this until Gaius apologizes."

"Now, now," came Alvin's low and suggestive voice. "Don't play cat-and-mouse with the poor man…" A burst of his laughter scattered whatever other words he might have tried to speak; Leia looked as if she thought it were funny, but that she also feared for his life. As well she should; Milla and Gaius both glared in his direction before exchanging a glance and silently agreeing that his execution could wait until later.

An apology, Gaius supposed reluctantly, was to be expected; what he had done was certainly out of line, even considering his circumstances. But doubtless she also wanted a sincere one—and _that_ he was not sure he could offer; not after she had so passionately accosted him. And so he stood there, staring her down, for a very long time.

Unfortunately, a side effect of looking too hard at Milla Maxwell is being unable to collect one's thoughts; Gaius's in particular hid among her contours so that he was forced to search for them there. (Spirits, she was gorgeous.) Her elegant ears gradually pricked up again and she tilted her head like a confused kitten, curious at his softening expression…

Gaius finally bowed his head with a sigh, unable to withstand her gentle and unintentional pressure any longer. "I'm… sorry."

Milla purr-laughed delightedly, crossing her arms with sparkling eyes, and he turned his face away from her with an involuntary and hopefully quiet sound in the back of his throat. "If I'd have known my appearance could have such an effect on you, I should have made myself look like this for our battle a year ago!" she giggled.

And Gaius could not meet her eyes. He still would have fought her, of course; she would have been attractive, but an adversary nonetheless. It might have been a _little_ more difficult, he admitted grudgingly to himself, because in the constant motion of battle, it would be a lot more likely that her tail would push her skirt askew and he would be able to see—

O Lord of Spirits, what a thought! Gaius shuddered from top to toe as a new realization struck him. By the time of their battle, her mortal body had died. After her death, she had been resurrected as a spirit. As a spirit, she didn't need any corporeal clothing. Could it be… that even as their swords clashed… she wasn't… really… wearing anything…?

And his brain short-circuited once again… sort of.

"No!" exclaimed Gaius aloud, shaking his head vigorously in a vain attempt to clear it, and hid his face in his hands. What was _wrong_ with him? He probably looked like a madman; but then again, perhaps he was. His self-control was a finite resource, after all; he was only human… unlike a certain cat-spirit, a delight and privilege to look upon…

"Whoa, you okay there?" asked Alvin concernedly.

Gaius shook his head truthfully, gripping Milla's shoulders and trying not to think of the feeling of the smooth skin beneath his fingers, easily as soft and touchable as feline fur. "_Why_, in the name of all that is holy, did you have to be a _cat_?" he demanded of the Lord of Spirits, who stared at him, wide-eyed, her ears turned aside and her tail fluffed up in alarm as he shook her slightly.

"Muzét suggested it!" she exclaimed, unusually meekly, and squeaked slightly as she said it: Gaius bit his lip at the noise, about _this _close to losing it. "She said—well, since I was most like a cat, I would look best as a cat—and since everyone else seemed to think it was a good idea, too, I…" She faltered, looking up several times in attempts to meet his eyes, but could not do it.

He stared at her, dropping his hands back to his side. "_Muzét_," growled Gaius, clenching his fists. So his gut feeling had been right after all. She knew, likely more than the others, of his deep and abiding love of cats. And she also loved seeing how he reacted to uncomfortable situations. It all made far too much sense; every one of the cat puns was a red herring… Had they _planned_ this?

"What's going on?" cried Elize's voice worriedly in his peripheral hearing, as though matters couldn't get any worse. Half-convinced he was now in a waking nightmare, Gaius turned around slowly, wide-eyed, to notice that she, Rowen, Ludger, and Elle had evidently found one another and made their entrance. (And Muzét, of course, was nowhere to be found.)

"Guys, I think we might have broken Gaius," responded Leia's voice, sounding no less concerned, and everyone's eyes widened; there were a variety of astonished or disbelieving exclamations, except from Rowen, who merely observed the situation with a grave expression.

"He couldn't handle my—" added Milla, stepping forward: Gaius, panicking, reached out and yanked one of her ears in a desperate effort to stop her. She didn't yowl this time, fortunately, but rather halted mid-sentence with a sort of gasp, stumbling towards him. Cupping his hands around it, Gaius hissed urgently, "Do you want to ruin me completely? Be quiet!"

Her ear flicked automatically at his breath, brushing softly against his lips like a feather-light kiss—and, staggering backwards as though she had pushed him, Gaius remembered suddenly the feeling of her tail twitching in his fingers—and how it caressed his thigh—and then he remembered that her clothes were an illusion—and they had been for the majority of the time he'd ever seen her before—

He swallowed convulsively, knowing all too well that at this point, he probably looked exactly as stricken as he really was. To maintain his composure in battle was easy enough; it was only a matter of life or death. But to keep his cool around cat… woman… spirits? _Impossible_, as he had now learned the hard way.

He shook his head agitatedly, ignoring with difficulty the nonplussed stares of all his friends and several of his subjects. "Excuse me," he managed finally, running a hand briefly through his hair, and leaned across the table to take the bottle of Twilight. (Still mostly full, thank the spirits.)

"Wait! Where you going?" called Elle, reaching out for him as he passed.

"Home," responded Gaius distractedly, already out the door and on his way. This time, he would make it all the way back to the palace; if Muzét got in his way again, he'd get her right back out of it again. "Enjoy the rest of the festival—" he called over his shoulder. Just as he would, in his own way.

The king's evening would consist of drinking the rest of the Twilight alone in his room, and then trying to fall asleep _without _thinking of cats and/or Milla. Instead, he would focus on ways to keep his head held high around his allies, and perhaps ideas for getting even with Muzét, if he was feeling properly vindictive.

Yes; that was a good plan…

Only when he was already locked in his bedroom and ready to undress for the night did Gaius realize that he had left his coat and gloves behind—but he was certain the others would hold them for him; Jude in particular was meticulous enough to notice, and thoughtful enough to keep them.

He did not bargain for having them returned to him before morning.

After several hours of blissful solitude, taken up with consuming the remainder of the Twilight, Gaius's senses were pleasantly blurred and he was just beginning to think he might survive after all…

…But suddenly, a firm and decisive knock sounded at the door, echoing slightly in his ears. After ensuring somewhat hazily that he was at least wearing pants, the king walked over to the door—stumbling only once—and opened it. And there stood Milla Maxwell in the soft glow of lamplight, his coat draped around her shoulders as she carried his gloves.

His coat. On her shoulders. The only piece of mortal clothing on her heavenly body. And she had come to his room. While he was alone. And tipsy.

No. No. No. (Yeeees.) _No_!

Gaius leaned his head against the doorway with a dull and somewhat defeated _thud._ "You're not a dream… are you?" he asked, eyeing Milla suspiciously. It wasn't impossible, after all, given the amount of alcohol he had consumed; and besides, his next course of action depended on her response.

She heaved a sigh, shaking her head. "I don't think so," she responded, taking off his coat and proffering it to him along with the gloves. He extended his hand almost gingerly; was it all right to touch something that a naked girl had just been holding around her shoulders? Would it be appropriate to wear it himself tomorrow?

"Take it," she prompted somewhat impatiently, but he could not obey until he knew whether there would be any moral consequences. Finally, she simply threw his coat and gloves at him, and he instinctively caught them: but he quickly gasped, fingers slackening on the lapel, and his coat fell to the floor.

_ It was still warm_—!

He made a small noise of distress, trying his utmost not to freak out completely… with limited success, if Milla's gentle amusement was anything to go by. "I swear," she laughed, no purr in her voice—but there might have been a little bit of affection in its place. "I'll never understand cat people."

"You're the one with ears and a tail," mumbled Gaius, leaning an arm against the doorframe in an exhausted effort to steady himself, and found it incredibly difficult to look at her the way he had always done before. He wished more than anything that she'd just change back already so things would return to normal between them; hadn't Muzét tortured him enough…?

Milla laughed softly, and the light sound sent shivers up his spine. "I know you're drunk, but _try_ to open your eyes, Gaius," she chided, and—after a hesitation, during which he foggily tried to determine whether she really _was _a dream, telling him to wake up—he focused with difficulty on her face.

Her pupils were no longer slitted, but round. Her teeth were white and even as she smiled gently. Her ears were small and human, fixed firmly to the sides of her head. She no longer had that precious tail. And yet, to his confusion, his pulse still raced and his breath still caught when he imagined the taste of Moonlight on her lips or thought of the warmth of his coat on her back or observed how that ethereal dress clung to her curves.

And _that_ was when Gaius realized he was in trouble.

* * *

><p><em>Dedicated to Ryu<em>—_er, Flamingo Bubbles, for helping me brainstorm!  
><em>


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